Harry Potter and the Fury of War
by Darkened Void
Summary: HP/DG. AU Post OOTP. After being kicked out of the Dursley's Harry is forced to make his own way. At Grimmauld Place he discovers some disturbing news. With all of the strange events going on around him, how will Harry defeat the scourge that is Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters? M for language and extreme violence in later chapters.
1. Furious Changes

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.**

**A/N: I decided to do something a little different than my usual story. I wanted to try changing my writing style up just a tad to see the outcome. Warning: this story is rated M for language, violence and possible adult situations later in the story. Enjoy!**

**Harry Potter and the Fury of War**

Chapter 1: Furious Changes

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR… STRANGENESS IN MY HOUSE, BOY! I WANT YOU OUT!"

A loud smack reverberates through the Dursley household as I, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, am launched across the kitchen by my uncle's powerful backhand. It is my birthday today, but nobody in the house I live in has even acknowledged it. However, that is par for the course. My uncle's current actions, though, are not entirely normal. At least, they had not been normal since the summer after my third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It had been rather hilarious when I had instilled the fear of God into my "family" that summer thanks to the notorious murderer, Sirius Black. I had conveniently let it slip on the way back to Four Privet Drive that my godfather was an internationally wanted criminal who would stop at nothing to live up to his reputation if something ever happened to me or if I had lost contact with him. It was only a bit of a lie, I suppose. Who could really blame me with the kind of family I have? Sure, Sirius had been framed for murdering Peter Pettigrew and betraying my parents, but the Dursleys did not need to know that. It had resulted in two peaceful summers of being ignored. It had been the good life.

That had all changed this summer. Near the end of this past term, my fifth year, I entered into the Hall of Prophecy at the Ministry of Magic to save my godfather from the clutches of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters. It had all been a cleverly disguised ruse set up by none other than the Dark Lord himself to learn of a prophecy that involved the both of us. I fell right into the trap, resulting in my best friend, Hermione Granger, being severely injured and the death of both Sirius Black and my father's other best friend, Remus Lupin. They had been my only remaining links to my parents and now they are both gone. The only surviving member left of the Marauders is Pettigrew, but he had been captured in the battle in the Ministry and was currently rotting in Azkaban. Just my luck, but, again, par for the course.

Sirius had been cleared of all prior charges, but it did not matter now. He would not be around to enjoy his freedom. The only good that had come out of the battle was that Voldemort was now acknowledged to be alive once again. It had been too high a price to be paid for such a small victory as far as I am concerned.

Oddly enough, the muggle news had reported Sirius' death but made no mention of his exoneration. It did not matter. What did matter, however, was that Vernon Dursley had seen the report and had immediately stomped up the stairs to take his anger out on me. That had been one week into the summer. The last three have been a maelstrom of violence.

I stare defiantly into the eyes of my purple-faced uncle. He has been going at me for the better part of half an hour, but I have not made a single sound. That only served to make that whale-sized arse of a man angrier, but I will never give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream. After all, I've been tortured by Voldemort on multiple occasions thanks to his nifty Cruciatus Curse. What are a few love taps to the Boy-Who-Lived?

I shakily rise to my feet and smirk at my "beloved family". Damn my wiry frame and double damn my stubbornness. Those hits took more out of me than I had originally thought. Oh well, I've had worse. "You know I can't do that, _sir_. If I leave then these bloody wards will collapse before long. If I leave…you die. Voldemort won't care that I'm gone."

Vernon leers at me and launches one of his massive fists into my ribcage, causing a loud snap to be heard. Damn, that hurt, but at least I only gave him a small grunt. The bane of my existence, the ever-constipated-Vernon, grabs me by the hair and forces me to stand and look him in the eye. How funny is it that I can face down an evil wizard, but I can never seem to stand up to a fat muggle? Thrice damn the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Whoever thought up that idea needs to be thrown in a cage with Vernon without their wand. Let's see how long they would last. Not long is my bet.

Several of my bones are broken, but I know he does not care. Never really has, honestly. Bastard. Vernon finally has a chance to force me out of his home, and he will do anything to see his greatest wish come true. What an idiot. He's signing his family's death warrant.

"Vernon," Petunia Dursley timidly squeaks. Is it physically possible for somebody to possess a voice that sounds like a nail scraping a chalkboard? "He is right. That man… That… Voldeewart… He does not care if the boy isn't here. He will kill all of us just like he did my sister. He cannot leave. The headmaster of that _school_ told us at the end of last summer."

I raise the eyebrow that is not currently bruising over. It seems that at least one of them has a brain. Perhaps she just keeps it turned off most of the time to conserve its battery.

"I don't care what that old codger said." Vernon's face is quickly turning purple. He releases me and I fall back on the ground. This is just not my day. A muffled grunt leaves my mouth when he kicks my face and breaks my nose. Damn, Madam Pomfrey spent a while fixing it to be straight again, too! I'm sure she will have a few choice words with me when I see her next. "I. WANT. HIM. OUT. I don't care if that freak comes here with his friends. I will shoot and kill him, myself."

Damn, he is dumb. It will be a cold day in hell before that bastard is killed by a gun. Do you find it strange that I think this way while being beaten? Is it strange? Most would probably think so, but who knows? I used to feel sorry for myself about the beatings and my whole situation, but I guess that got lost a few weeks ago when I lost Padfoot and Moony. I just stopped caring like I used to. Hermione said was becoming jaded, whatever that means. I just turned sixteen and I have to face an evil wizard who has nearly half a century's experience on me. Did I also mention he is insanely powerful? No? Well, bugger me, I suppose.

Who wouldn't be a bit cold and brassed off after that? I guess life kinda loses its meaning once you lose most of the things that mean anything to you. My new way of thinking is the only thing that keeps me sane. Am I Jaded? Most likely. Have I become insane? Quite possibly.

The dangerously obese man slowly walks away from me toward the cupboard under the stairs only to turn around at the sound of my morbid chuckling. Oh, it hurts like hell, but the situation is too funny not to laugh!

"You're a fool if you think you can kill him." I cough, spitting out a small amount of blood onto the linoleum floor. Petunia would kill me if not for the tense situation. Take that, bitch! "You will all be dead before the new year."

Silence hangs in the air for several seconds as the Dursleys contemplate my words. Welcome to my world you bunch of dunderheads!

"I will take my chances," Vernon replies venomously before turning to unlock the cupboard containing all of my school supplies. "Now get out of my home and never return."

Vernon spits on me before tossing my school trunk next to me and disappears through the door to the sitting room. I have to use the trunk to drag myself to my feet. If only Malfoy could see me now. He would have a field day. The great Harry Potter reduced to crawling around like a weakling all because of a muggle! On second thought, it's a good thing he is not here. He would probably curse me out of existence, Prophecy be damned. I grab the container by the handle and begin to slowly drag it toward the door. Freedom! Now if only I could walk properly.

"Good riddance to a freak." Dudley sneers at me one last time before following his father. Well, someone's not getting a Christmas card this year!

I shake my head in sadness as I shamble to my freedom. As sarcastic as I am about this whole fucked up situation it is only to mask my own pain and protect myself from becoming as barmy as Luna. It is a rather sad situation. As my palm touches the doorknob the sound of my aunt's voice stops me.

"You can't leave, Harry." She is begging. She is in tears and she is begging! As pathetic as it is, this is new. I do not turn around. I know she is only worried for her family's safety, not mine. The Dursleys have always been selfish people. "He will kill us. You're all that is left of my family, Harry. I can get him to stop. Just…Please don't leave."

"He will never stop, Petunia." She flinches at the cold sorrow in my words, my hand still frozen around the doorknob. "He will kill me if I don't leave. I have no doubt of it. He has made his bed and now he must lie in it. You are all horrible people, but you don't deserve death. I suggest you take Dudley and run far away. He will not follow, and the blood wards protecting this house will fail. He will die, but at least you and Dudley will live."

Opening the door, I step out before turning around and fix my aunt with a fierce glare. The haunted look in my eyes makes her shrink back in fear.

"Also… You are no family of mine. My family is dead."

It is strange leaving Privet Drive for good for the first time. I never thought it would come. It should be a joyous occasion. I can hear Petunia sobbing through the now closed door. There has been too much pain and suffering for in this place for me to truly feel happy. Sirius is dead. Remus is dead. I have nowhere to go. The Burrow would be an option was it under a Fidelius, but my staying there would only bring my friends immense danger at this point. There is only one place to go, but I do not want to. The memories would be too painful to bear.

I have no choice. Standing on the sidewalk in front of Number Four Privet Drive, I raise my wand into the muggy night air. I take a step back a second later as a blue, triple decker bus suddenly appears from thin air a few meters to my left and comes to a stop where I had just been standing. I learned my lesson three years ago when I accidentally called for this thing. No need in becoming a Harry-pancake before I face Tommy Boy.

Grabbing my trunk, I stumble into the bus and travel on to my next great adventure, as it is.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Where ya headed to?" Stan Shunpike never looks up from his copy of the Daily Prophet as I place a few sickles in a box beside the driver's seat. How can he stand to read that drivel? I stopped a week after the Ministry.

I silently thank the gods above that I gave Hedwig to Hermione to take care of over the summer since the Dursleys had gotten tired of her going in and out last year. She would have been in a right state after this ride. I would have gotten my fair share of angry pecks and cold shoulders over bringing her on this wheeled contraption from hell. I really do hate magical means of travel, broomsticks aside of course.

"Grimmauld Place, London." Hopefully, it hasn't been overrun by Death Eater sentries on the lookout for me. Tom surely knows about it by now.

Apparently my reply grabbed the man's attention.

"You're 'Arry Potter!" Stan's eyes wide and look at my scar as the bus finally begins to take off at breakneck speeds. Luckily, I had been able to take a seat and stow away my luggage before they tried to deliver me to Death's embrace via ridiculous travel. "'Ey, Earn! 'Arry Potter's got on! Wonder what 'e's doin' 'ere all by 'imself? Dangerous folks lurkin' about af'er all."

Why does everybody have to make a big deal about me being anywhere? Oh my God, Harry Potter got on a bus! How lucky can a guy get?! I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes since he is still staring at me. It seems it had been too much to ask for that Stan would still remember me as Neville. Oh, well. It was probably unavoidable since my face is on most of the front pages of the Daily Prophet these days.

"You look a right mess, 'Arry!" No shit, Sherlock. Tends to happen when you get your ass whipped by an overgrown walrus. Stan puts his paper down and leans forward, placing his knees on his elbows. "What 'appened? Weren't no Death Eaters 'round these parts were there?"

"No, just some muggle thugs. Can't use magic." It is a weak lie and even Stan knows it. Seriously, just because I am famous does not mean it's a personal invitation to weasel information out of me! Thankfully, he does not pry any further.

"Can I get you somethin'? Hot chocolate? Coffee? Toothbrush?" At my head shake Stan falls into silence for a few moments and continues to stare at me, the teenage hero of the wizarding world. Seriously, mate, did your mother not teach you any manners at all? Even the barbaric Dursleys are more well behaved than that, aside from their violent tendencies, mind you.

The silence allows me a few minutes to think about what my next move should be after I make it to Grimmauld Place. Surely, I would still be able to get in? Sirius mentioned the previous summer that only the Head of House Black is able to key people to the wards. Did his keys remain after his death? Does the Fidelius Charm overpower the other wards? If the wards had somehow collapsed after Sirius' death then I will not be able to stay long. It is times like these that I wish I had taken Ancient Runes at school. Hermione had mentioned they had started learning about warding last year. Bloody lot of good Divination does me now.

How did Sirius' death affect ownership of the old house? Surely, Sirius had not allowed ownership to turn over to Draco Malfoy. If it had then I will most undoubtedly be walking into a trap. I may have to find somewhere else to stay, but where? Another problem is that I cannot apparate yet. If the Order is there then I would be safe for at least until school starts again. Dumbledore was the secret keeper and there was no way Riddle had been able to get that particular bit of information from him.

Thinking of the Order, were they not supposed to be guarding the house on Privet Drive? I inwardly scoff. It must have been Dung's turn to stake the place out today. No doubt he had just got piss drunk and passed out again. It would not have been the first time. Vernon had found him passed out half clothed in the back yard a week back. I shiver at the memory of the confrontation that followed.

All this thinking is making my head hurt more than it was before. Where is Hermione when you need her to think for you? I let out an exhausted sigh and lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes. I have to open them moments later when I experience a rush of vertigo and nausea. Ruddy buss. Vernon probably gave me a small concussion and the ride on the Knight Bus is not helping in the slightest. I open my eyes only to find Stan still staring at me intently.

"Wasn't yer name Noobil the last time you was on 'ere?"

Surprisingly, the seemingly clueless man had remembers my lie, even if he has the wrong name. The last time I met Stan I had thought of him as a rather dim-witted person. Perhaps I was wrong about him, after all.

"Can't say I blame ya. Not with Sirius Black af'er ya, at least," Stan continues while he picks up his paper and begins reading once again. "Can't rightly believe 'e weren't guilty. Too convenient if ya ask me."

I ball my fists in anger. Scratch that last thought. He is a bloody idiot.

"So is it true an' all?" I look up at the acne-covered face of Stan Shunpike with slightly narrowed eyes. The man is still lost behind that bloody rag of a newspaper. "You know, about you bein' 'The Chosen One' an' all?"

I cannot help but sigh again. I should have expected it. If I were in the wizarding world I would be asked that question more often than not. Hogwarts will be fun this year! Not.

"Can't say for sure. Never heard the Prophecy while I was at the Ministry." He doesn't need to know that Dumbledore told me the Prophecy after I came to in the infirmary.

"Right shame, that." Yeah, sure, mate. You would not be saying that if you were in my shoes. I'd rather not know about the Prophecy.

I cannot help but roll my eyes this time. Can I not well just be left in peace? Too bad I am not eighteen yet. I would love to stop at a muggle pub and drown my sorrows. Lord knows I have enough of them, too. Sirius once told me that it did wonders for the soul. I will have to try it out sometime. Maybe if Grimmauld place is secure I can find his stash of firewhiskey.

"If you say so," I reply sullenly. I do not need any reminders of that accursed prophecy at the moment.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride passes in silence.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The Knight Bus is gone. Dark has just descended on Grimmauld place. The neighborhood is eerily quiet. This does not bode well. The first time I came here there were at least some children playing nearby. I can't see anybody, but that does not mean anything. Tom's dimwitted cattle like to attack from the shadows. Perhaps they are inside waiting for me. Pulling out my wand I drag my trunk to the top of the stairs leading to the door.

This should be fun. Not.

I slowly turn the doorknob. It is unlocked. Damn. This is too easy. I bet this place is swarming with Death Eaters. I should turn back, but when have I ever listened to a plain common sense solution?

The door creaks as I slowly open the door. My wand is the first thing through the opening. I hear something. I stop opening the door.

Voices.

Dumbledore.

Two others I do not recognize.

I cannot make out what they are saying. It could still be a trap. There is a lot of magic I still don't know, after all. I continue to slowly open the door as I quietly set my trunk down on the stoop. Muggles won't be able to steal it, and any Death Eaters outside trying to steal it are the least of my concerns right now. Better alive and without my broom or invisibility cloak than dead I always say! I could pull out my father's old cloak, but that would take too much time and would only serve to distract me from my surroundings.

The door is open. It felt like it took ages to open.

My heart is pounding as I tiptoe through the entrance hallway. Can't wake up good ole' auntie dearest. The lights are on in the sitting room. Death Eaters waiting to ambush me would not have a light on. Oh well, can't be too careful. **CONSTANT VIGILANCE!**

My back is against the wall. All I have to do is poke my head around the corner to see who is talking. At least now I can make out the words. I still cannot tell who the other two voices belong to. One man, one woman. I take a risk by peeking, but I have to know their positions. My head is moving slowly, but something they say stops me in my tracks.

"Are you sure it would be prudent to make Harry aware of this? The boy already has so much set before him. Surely, you have seen the Prophet these past few weeks." That would be Dumbledore. I have to give it to Tommy Boy. If this is a trap it is rather elaborate.

"It is in the contract, Albus. He must be made aware of its existence by his sixteenth birthday. You must bring him from his relatives' house before midnight. Otherwise, the consequences will be most dire." The man. What must I be made aware of? What have I been roped into this time?

"I would, Marcus, but it would seem that he has already made his way to us. Would you care to join us, Harry?"

I freeze. He must have felt a disturbance when I crossed the wards. If that is not Albus Dumbledore then I am screwed since I just lost the element of surprise, but if it is then I am still screwed since I left the Dursleys.

Steeling myself, I step around the corner with my wand raised. **CONSTANT VIGILANCE! ** Dumbledore is sitting in a chair slightly to my right. Across from him are four people sitting on a large couch. A man, a woman and two girls around my age. A table with tea is between the two parties. If worse comes to worse I can blow up the table and give them a bite of a shrapnel sandwich. I can summon that bookcase behind them for cover while they are distracted. Moody would be proud if he were here. At least he survived the battle at the Ministry.

"What is the flavor of bean you ate when you visited me in the infirmary at the end of my first year?" At least the Prophet got something right with asking people security questions. I'm sure that was not something that was widely known. I try to look intimidating, but I suppose that is rather hard when my face is covered in blood and my nose is bent at an odd angle.

Dumbledore smiles at me with that twinkle in his eye. If this person is under polyjuice then they are doing a damn good job of mimicking him. The four across from him seem surprised that I am leveling a wand at them. None of them have drawn. Not that it would have been smart to.

"Alas, earwax. Now if you will please sit with us, Harry. We have much to discuss." Dumbledore draws his wand slowly before conjuring a chair beside him.

I do not lower my wand. I do not move. "Who are these people?"

I faintly recognize the two girls. Both of them are in Slytherin. The older one is in my year, I think. The younger is two years behind me.

"Honestly, Potter," the older one growls out. "We have been in the same classes for five years and you don't even know my name. What an idiot. Father, are you sure there is no way out of this…_contract_?"

"Not now, Daphne." Yeah, bint, shut up.

Dumbledore continues to smile at me with that damn twinkle. I still haven't lowered my wand. "Where are my manners? Harry, this is Lord Marcus Greengrass, his wife Lady Ophelia and his two daughters, Daphne and Astoria. Now, please sit with us. We have much to discuss.

I lower my wand, but I keep it in my hand. My luck is bad enough that this could be a trap set up by the snakes. I am confident that Dumbledore is Dumbledore, but this family looks a bit shifty. None of them look extremely thrilled to be here.

"Kreacher!"

A loud crack courses through the air as a disgusting house elf appears in front of me. Seriously, does it not wash its pillow case?

"What is the nasty master wanting?"

"I want you to…" Master? "Why did you call me 'Master' just now?"

"Kreacher calls filthy, half-blood, Master, because he is Kreacher's master." I arch an eyebrow. This is interesting. It seems I own the house. That means the Fidelius should still be working. I wonder if the Ministry can trace underage magic under it. Something to ask Dumbledore later. "Oh, what would Kreacher's Mistress say if she still be living?! Mistress' beautiful house tainted with half-bloods and mudbloods! Poor, poor Kreacher."

"That's enough, Kreacher." I might like this. I can get him to do the shit work for what he did to Sirius. Just need to be careful how I word my commands. Ah, who am I kidding? This is gonna suck. "You will always stay in this house unless I tell you to go elsewhere. You will only communicate with me. You will not talk about or call anybody a mudblood or half-blood. I also need you to take grab my trunk from outside and take it up to my room. Do not damage or steal anything. Do you understand?"

There, that should be good enough. Kreacher scowls at me, but nods his understanding before snapping his fingers and disappearing.

"Ah, very good. I had hoped this would be the case."

I sit beside Dumbledore, my wand resting against my knee. I still don't trust the other four. The scowls on their faces show they are not entirely pleased by being here.

"What do you mean, sir?" Always speaking in riddles, that one.

"Ah! How rude of me!" Dumbledore lifts his wand toward my face. A few intricate motions later I can feel my nose snapping back into place, the swelling decrease and the now dry blood being wiped clean. After he finishes with my face he runs his wand over my body and whispers words I do not understand. Thankfully, the pain in my bones go away as they heal. "I must apologize, Harry. I am afraid I am not as talented as Madame Pomfrey with broken noses. It is still rather crooked.

"Now, as for your question: it seems ownership of Grimmauld Place has passed on to you, Harry." Dumbledore smiles sadly at me. At least he's looking at me this year. "I was afraid Sirius had not updated his will and young Mr. Malfoy would inherit as he is the next in line for the Head of House Black. Kreacher has confirmed my theory that you at least retain ownership of this fine home."

I scoff inwardly. Sirius and I would have both wiped our asses with Walburga Black's portrait if we could have. This place is horrendous.

"As it were, Sirius' will reading will take place tomorrow at Gringotts at ten A.M. I have been told your presence is required. Now, let us get on to business since you have already been cleaned up a bit."

I hate Dumbledore's business. It always deals with something bad.

"Now then. What occurred for you to arrive here in your condition, Harry?"

I snort. He should know very well what happened. "It seems I am no longer welcome at Privet Drive, Headmaster. The Dursleys wished to celebrate my birthday and send me on my merry way."

I hear Ophelia gasp. When I look over I raise my eyebrow. A hand covers her mouth. Her husband is giving me a calculating look. Guy doesn't show much emotion, does he? He must be one of those old school purebloods. Wonder why dear old Albus wants a contract with him. Astoria is looking at me with wide eyes. The Ice Queen of Slytherin shows no outward displays of emotion, but I can see the shock hidden in her eyes. She lives up to her reputation. Why are they so shocked? Shit like the Dursleys happen all the time. Must have never seen the results with her own eyes before. Welcome to the real world, honey. Sucks, doesn't it?

"Ah, it is most unfortunate your family feels so poorly toward you, Harry." Ha! Unfortunate, my ass.

"They are no family of mine." I may sound like a petulant child right now, but I do not care. I think I've earned that by this point. I'm more upset with Dumbledore right now, anyway. He's the one who placed me there. I'm sure there were other places to put me. Andromeda wouldn't have been a bad choice. At least we are related, however distant it may be.

"It seems that would be why the blood wards have been slowly losing power. I suppose that will make my decision all the easier to make." Now that caught my interest. What decision is he going to make for me this time?

"What do you mean the blood wards have been getting weaker?"

This should be good.

"The blood wards were based on your relationship to Petunia, Harry." Thanks for that. I already figured that out for myself. "They were made to keep those with malicious intents against you out of the house. Your relationship with the Dursleys would have no effect on the wards, itself. However, since the wards were based on Petunia, her family would be allowed within those wards regardless of their intent toward you. It seems I made a foolish mistake in believing they would treat you as one of their own, and for that, Harry, I am deeply sorry. Their intent coupled with their treatment toward you has caused the wards power to decrease drastically. With you off the premises the wards will likely fall by November."

"It is their problem now. They made their decision. I let them know what would happen if I left, but Vernon still insisted I leave."

They do not deserve death, but I did not deserve to be treated the way I was. I can understand why Dumbledore wants me under the wards, but he should have checked on me, at least. Why did he turn a blind eye when the wards started to lose power?

"We shall speak of this at a later date, Harry. I will speak to the Dursleys and urge them to leave their home, though I doubt it will do much good. However, this was not the true purpose of our meeting with the Greengrasses. If you would, Marcus."

I look over at the older man. He is tall and wears fine robes. His long salt and pepper hair is tied back in a ponytail. His metal grey eyes are piercing in a way that would be intimidating if I had not faced Voldemort on several occasions. He has a long, thin face accented by a slightly upturned nose. His goatee makes him look dignified. If his poise is any indication he is a rather important man. Too bad that does not impress me. Actions define a man, after all.

"May I call you Harry?" At my terse nod he continues. "Good evening, Harry. I have spoken with Albus and we have decided you will be staying the rest of the summer with us. I believe you will find my home to be much more hospitable than your previous one."

I laugh. I can't help it. This must be some kind of joke. I'm staying right where I am, thank you very much.

"Did I say something humorous, Harry?" I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. Astoria looks shocked, but even I must admit that the glare Daphne is shooting my way is somewhat daunting.

"I'm sorry, but I think this must be some kind of joke. I don't know any of you. I have a perfectly safe home here. Besides, if her look is any indication she may try to kill me in my sleep."

I point at Daphne. If looks could kill I would have been hit by the Killing Curse fifty times over by now.

"Rest assured, Potter, that I do not like this any more than you do. If you keep up the attitude I'll make sure to correct you."

"That is enough, Daphne."

Daphne opens her mouth to retort, but a glare from her mother silences her. Marcus is glaring at me. Apparently, he does not like my sarcasm. Shame, that. We continue to stare at one another for several seconds before it finally hits me…

This is not a joke. There is no humor in his steely eyes.

Oh. Shit.

"This is no joke, Harry. I am not one to mince words. There is a reason you will be staying with us, and I can assure you that Greengrass Manor is very well warded as we are under a Fidelius of our own. The reason you are staying with us is to become acquainted with my oldest, Daphne."

I stare at him. What. The. Hell?!

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Neither of you have any choice in the matter. There is a contract between House Potter and House Greengrass."

This.

Does.

Not.

Sound.

Good.

"In the contract it states that on your sixteenth birthday Daphne will come live with your parents at your manor, but there was a clause that if they died then you would stay at ours. It was signed by your Grandfather, Charlus Potter, and my Father, Abraxas Greengrass. It is magically bound in blood and cannot be broken."

I sigh.

"Ok. What kind of magically binding contract are we talking about here, Lord Greengrass?" I had hoped to be done with magically binding contracts after the Tournament fiasco. Par for the course, I suppose. "Furthermore, why would my Grandfather sign anything like that? Seems a bit strange to me that he signed a contract for me to spend time with your daughter."

"Harry, it was meant to bring our houses together. An alliance, if you will. My family has always maintained a neutral stance in all wizarding wars. We lean more toward the light, but Voldemort began to pressure Father to join his cause. This contract ensured that we allied with a powerful 'light' house. There are few Most Noble and Ancient Houses more powerful than Potter, after all."

That's not too bad. It never hurts to have a few allies in a war, after all.

"Well, great! We have a contract to be allied with one another. I guess I will just spend my summer getting to know all of you and start making plans for this war."

Daphne snorted and rolled her eyes. Is there more to this than he is saying?

"Harry, it is a betrothal contract."

Me…And…Daphne…Married?

…

"Well…. Fuck."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: I had this idea in my head while I was bored at work one day. I know this seems like a pretty standard Harry/Daphne betrothal, but I can assure you it is not! There will be some twists and turns that make this story very different from others you have read. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think! Critiques are encouraged!**


	2. Hell Hath No Fury

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or fashion. Does that surprise anybody who is reading this? If so, please contact me at… LOLZ, not giving you my number.

**A/N:** I would like to thank everybody for the reviews (even if I already responded to you), favorites and follows. It means a lot to me as a fanfic author to receive them. I did not expect to get so many since this seems to be such a run of the mill HP/DG fanfic. Let me assure you that by next chapter things will start to diverge from the norm and get a bit weird. I have a very general outline for the story that I will be refining before chapter three comes out. I already know how the story is going to go (generally). The hard part will be getting there. I look forward to seeing what you have to say about it. ENJOY!

**Harry Potter and the Fury of War**

Chapter 2: Hell Hath No Fury…

"Eloquent as ever, Potter."

I'm engaged….to be married?

It's official! Harry Potter's brain has melted down! Reboot sequence in 3….2….1

"Sorry, do you want to run that by me again?"

This can't be right! I've only ever had one kiss, if you could even count the kiss I shared with Cho. No, that definitely did not count. I've never had a real kiss and now these people want me to up and get married? No big deal, Potter! It's just marriage! You've faced Voldemort five times, escaped being eaten by Acromantula, killed a basilisk with a sword, faced one hundred dementors, a giant dragon, swam the lake to rescue hostages and won the Triwizard Tournament. Marriage should be a walk in the park! Then why do I feel so scared? Seriously, that is much more terrifying than anything I have faced before. Can't I just duel Voldemort instead? That should count for something, right?

"You must marry Daphne within six months of your seventeenth birthday."

I look around, half expecting the Weasley twins to jump out from behind Dumbledore and yell, "You just got Weasley'ed!" No such luck, it seems.

I open my mouth, but no noise comes out. I try again. Nope. Third time's a charm? A squeak. Really Potter? It is a rare time, indeed, that I am shocked into silence. Normally, I would blow up about these kinds of things. If I have to marry her that would mean we would eventually have children. I'm sure there's one of those convenient clauses in there somewhere about that. Now that's an awkward situation. I can see it now. We would call each other Potter and Greengrass around our kids. Picture perfect marriage, really. This has to be the absolute worst situation I've ever been in.

Greengrass must have known about this well beforehand. She does not seem shocked, just angry. Why didn't she tell me before now? She had plenty of time while we were at Hogwarts.

"Why haven't I been told of this before?" It is a fair question. My betrothed has most likely known of this since she was a small girl.

"All parties involved were bound not to speak of it before your sixteenth birthday. The parents of the children were allowed to speak to one another, of course. The purpose was to allow you to enjoy your childhood and not worry about the contract since you would not be able to marry another person before you reached majority. We told Daphne of it this morning."

Well, isn't that just dandy? She has at least had a few hours to process this… situation. So now I have to worry about a future wife and Voldemort. Great, as if I didn't already have enough to worry about.

"So, I'm getting a brother?" I look at Astoria. She has an unreadable expression on her face. "This is awesome!"

"Yipee." The droll sound of my voice seemed to have upset everybody except Dumbledore, who is currently looking around the sitting room as if it were some interesting historical artifact. No help there, it seems.

"Don't sound so excited, Potter. It's not as if I'm an old hag. Seems to me that you get the better end of the bargain here."

I instantly see red. I barely register Marcus leaning back in his seat with an inquisitive expression on his face. That conceited bitch! How dare she!

"You think I like this, Greengrass?!" I don't even notice that I'm standing up as I begin to yell. "Happy fucking birthday, Harry! Your present is a betrothal contract! I don't care if you look good or not. Looks fade over time. I do not even know you. I've never even been on a proper date and now I'm expected to marry you. Not to mention I have a deranged Dark Lord trying to kill me. This is going to put a target on your back. You could very well die because of me. Do you think I want to have your death on my conscience? I know what Malfoy says about me. None of what he says is true, so don't act like you know how I'm feeling."

The silence filling the room is thick, but I do not give half a shit. The girl in front of me is gives me a calculating look before turning her head and lifting her nose in the air. It reminds me of the Fleur I knew when the Tournament first began, and it pisses me off. I don't know how I could survive an hour with this girl, much less the rest of my life! Seriously, did I do something to piss the Fates off? They must get off on shitting all over me.

"Well, this evening has been both illuminating and exciting, but I am afraid I must depart. Marcus, if you would be so kind as to see Harry to Greengrass Manor. Goodnight and good luck to the both of you."

Good luck, indeed.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Welcome to Greengrass Manor, Harry."

I look over at my tour guide. Ophelia Greengrass is beautiful woman with black hair and blue eyes. Even though she is wearing robes it is easy to tell she is petite, yet quite curvy. Her bust is a normal size. At least, it is average from my view. I have not made much time to compare that part of anatomy against others. She holds herself in a rather regal manner, but I can tell she is a rather warm person. She is not stiff like her husband. She seems to be a nice and well-mannered person. If she is anything to go by then her daughters will both age well.

The tour took quite a while. Greengrass Manor is rather large. I was surprised when I found a green and silver color scheme in only Astoria's bedroom. Most of the house was done in red and white. Ophelia had been in Gryffindor with my mother, so I guess it makes sense. Apparently, they had been close. Marcus, of course, had been a proper Slytherin if you can look past his marrying a Lion. My bedroom is nice, at least. They had decorated it red and gold to make me feel more comfortable, but that doesn't really matter to me. I am happy just to have my own bed, bathroom and balcony.

"Thank you for opening up your home to me, even if you have to." At least Ophelia is trying to make me feel somewhat at home. This has to be hard on her, as well. "And I apologize if I offended any of you. I'm sure this is hard on all of you. I didn't mean to sound like a prat. It's just…"

"I understand, Harry. If you would like to spend some time with Daphne before you go to bed she is across the hall from your room."

I have to return the small smile she is giving me. It is rather infectious.

"I don't think that would be such a great idea. I'm sure she is livid with me. I think I'll just turn in for the night."

Luckily, I had been able to blow off my steam at Grimmauld Place. Buckbeak was no longer in the house so I destroyed the room until I nearly passed out from magical exhaustion. It had taken a couple of hours and when I returned I found Ophelia waiting for me in the sitting room drinking tea. She is anything, if understanding.

"I know you did not want to be forced into marriage, Harry. I never did, but I found happiness with Marcus. Give Daphne a chance and you may be surprised. She may seem cold, but she is a very good person underneath her mask. Just get to know her. I think you may be the best thing for her if what I have heard about you is true. Goodnight, Harry."

I don't really have a choice but to give her a chance, do I?

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I'm back at the God forsaken place again. I come back to my own personal hell every night. I have for the past five weeks. Why would tonight be any different? Every night I get a front row seat to Sirius and Remus' deaths. This is the night I lost everything. At least I had never known my parents. You can't exactly miss what you never had, now can you? Sirius and Remus were the closest things I ever had to a father and an uncle.

Sirius and I are dueling Bellatrix Lestrange, just like every other time. The mad witch isn't even losing ground against the both of us. Sirius was the one of the best duelists among the Order and I am the best among the fifth years at Hogwarts, but it never does seem to matter when I fall asleep.

"SIRIUS!"

Just like every other time, I am forced to watch as my godfather conjures a shield in front of me to protect me from his insane cousin's Bone Breaker Curse. It opens him up to her blood boiler. I watch as yet again he instantly collapses. My mouth moves without any sound coming out. I do not know the counter. I am sure Sirius knows it, but he is in so much pain that he cannot concentrate on the spell.

His screams pierce my ears like hot knives. My godfather is writhing in agony and I cannot do a damn thing. Bellatrix's mad cackling hardly registers as I fall to my knees. Though he still thrashes around he can no longer scream since his blood damaged his esophagus beyond repair. I look into his eyes as curses fly around me and I see so many things at the same time: happiness at saving me, sorrow for leaving me so soon, regret that we had not spent more time together, pain from the curse and pride in me for being so strong.

It feels like he is suffering for eternity, but in reality it is only a few seconds. His own blood had fried his mind and killed him. I look into his now lifeless, dull eyes. I have never seen such a brutal death up close before. At least Cedric's end had been quick. It was almost as if he could see something that we, the living, could not. In his last moment had he seen the afterlife? If you look beyond the eyes at his face all you would see is agony. Why then, are his eyes so peaceful?

"SIRIUS! YOU CAN'T DIE!" I grab his hand in my own as tears form in my eyes. His skin is so hot it almost burns to the touch. "Please, Sirius. Come back. I need you."

"What's wrong, Potter?! Did I kill your godfather? Oopsie! Don't worry, you'll see him in hell soon enough!" How can a person kill their own family and not feel remorse? I had never been told much about Bellatrix Lestrange, but what I had been told still forces a shiver down my spine. How was she only given a life sentence in Azkaban? Surely, she would have been given the Kiss as payment for her crimes.

I feel myself being jerked away from Sirius. Remus has grabbed me and I'm being forced to clumsily run away. I look back to see Sirius one last time. I wish I hadn't. Bellatrix had shot a Reductor at me. Sirius chest explodes in a gory mess and I am forced to look away.

Tears fall freely from my eyes as I run with Remus. I'm not even aware of where we are going. All I am aware of is Sirius' dead eyes staring back at me in my mind's eye, the look of pain etched on his face forever more. He died because I could not protect myself. It is my fault he is dead.

I don't know how long we ran. I couldn't even hear Bellatrix's laughter and taunting as she ran after us. A piece of me died back in the Veil Room. It no longer mattered if I died. What do I have left? There will be no happily ever after for me. Voldemort will win.

"Ah, Harry, how nice of you to join me."

Death stares down at me from the fountain in the middle of the atrium. My scar burns. I can feel his smirking gaze on me. I ignore the pain in my head as I look at him and raise my wand to strike him down. Anger floods my body. It is funny how emotions can change so quickly during any kind of conflict, is it not? One moment you are mourning the death of a loved one and then you are hell bent on the destruction of their killer. It is these emotions which give you strength to persevere, but it is also these feelings which can cause you to lose everything in an instant. One can only hope it is the former.

Rage fills my body as I stare at the man who is responsible for Sirius' death. Hatred running pure through my heart gives me power. My newfound strength yields an amount magical power I have never experienced before. This power gives way to the annihilation of my enemies. Their deaths bring victory. Only one spell can give me the result my soul needs. It is one I have never used before, but it has been on the tip of my tongue more than a few times this night.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light rushes from my wand. The only thing I know is that I want him to die. No, I need him to die. I do not see Remus look at me in horror. It would not matter if I had. This ends now.

Time is another funny thing. People say that at moments like this it seems to slow down to a crawl. Well, it's true. Everything is in slow motion. Riddle's gleeful sneer fills my eyes before he spins around to avoid death. I certainly have the power and hatred to kill him, but I lack the required focus…just like all the times before.

Everything else be damned, I will see him dead this night.

"CRUCIO!"

I will bring him pain this night.

My curse strikes true. I watch with sadistic glee as Tom Marvolo Riddle writhes in agony. My greatest enemy bowed on his hands and knees before me. This is only a taste of what I seek.

I scowl when I realize he is not screaming. I pump more power and emotion into my spell. Ah, there is the music to my ears. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Adrenaline flows freely through me as I torture him just as he has tortured me. This is for my parents and Sirius, you slimy git!

"Harry, that is enough! You are better than this." I turn to look at Remus as I lift the spell. I see Riddle slowly rise to his feet from the corner of my eye. He is shaking slightly, but I know he is far from weak. He would not be Voldemort if one Crucio would end him, after all.

"You're right, Remus." I turn to look back at Riddle. "It is time for him to die. AVADA KADAVRA!"

This night, I will see justice served.

This night, I will have my revenge.

Wait, where did that wall come from?

I turn around to see Bellatrix with her wand raised toward Riddle. She had stopped me from killing him. Fucking bitch.

"You dare to attack my Lord! You shall die, Potter! AVADA KADA-"

"HE IS MINE, BELLATRIX."

I turn back to Tom, but dust from the conjured wall's destruction covers him. I cannot see him and Bellatrix is behind me. This is not good.

"Remus, I can handle Voldemort. You take Lestra-"

A gurgling sound interrupts me. I turn to my left and see Remus with his wand raised toward Lestrange. A large, silver spike is stuck completely through his chest. His face is wearing the same shocked, pained expression as Sirius'. Again, I open my mouth and no sound emerges. His fall to the ground is slow. Remus Lupin is dead. Sirius Black is dead.

I can mourn later. I must kill Riddle. As long as he is alive I do not have to worry about her. _She_ comes later.

"Time to die, Harry."

Green light fills my vision before I bolt up, sweat covering my body. Even though I know I am dreaming I always wake up like this. I run to the bathroom attached to my room. I make it to the toilet just in time to throw up a large amount of bile. Sadly, pain racks my body once I am fresh out of bile and begin to dry heave. Par for the course, it seems.

It takes several minutes for me to calm down and stop heaving my lungs up. Damn dreams always affect me like this. I have to wonder if Voldemort has found out about our mysterious link yet. I could see the sadistic bastard using my own memory to keep me from getting much sleep. I can't feel him in my dream, but that does not mean he isn't there. It is a war of sedition. Make the enemy lose sleep and eventually they become so tired and agitated that they make foolish mistakes. Mistakes in this game mean death. No restart. No re-spawn.

Ah, that toothpaste tastes heavenly. It burns like hell because of the bile, but it is so nice to get that taste out of my mouth. I splash water over my face. It is cold, but it calms me down slightly. I won't be getting back to sleep, anyway. Just my luck. What to do with my remaining time? I suppose I could start on my summer homework since I have nothing else to do. I really should have taken my studying more seriously. Maybe I would have been able to do something different at the Ministry if I had. Maybe I would have been able to save Sirius. Knowledge is power, after all. Too bad I can't cast magic while I'm here. A month is a long time to train. I could go a long way with that much free time on my hands.

This trunk is a royal mess. I really should reorganize it. Meh, I'll do it later. I pull out my Transfiguration text and grab some ink and quills. After watching Dumbledore and Tommy Boy duel it out in the Ministry I became more interested in it. I know it is a power draining dueling style, but I saw how dangerous it could be on the battlefield that day. Yes, I am much better with Charms and Defense, but if I were able to practice Transfiguration and conjuring then I would even out. I could become all the more unpredictable. I may not be as strong magically as Dumbledore, but I would be a force to be reckoned with. Hell, I may even get a lucky shot in on Tom.

I open the book and start reading, but a knock at my door interrupts me.

"Potter, are you decent?"

It is Daphne. I sigh and close my book. Seems I will have to put off my work for a bit longer. My shirt is on the floor. Normally, I am not a slob, but I was so tired last night that I did not feel like being my usual neat self. I put it on and call for her to enter. She pokes her head through the door. I roll my eyes. Did she honestly think I would let her come in while I am au natural? I like my bits free of hexes, thank you very much.

"You woke the whole bloody house with your screams, you know."

"Couldn't really help it. I'll try to keep it down next time. I would put a silencing charm on my bed if I could." Slytherins may be known for the subtlety, but some of them are seriously lacking in the tact department. I'd like to see you not scream if you had the dreams I have.

She steps in the room and looks at me in the candle light. I know I look like an unpolished turd warmed over. I'm pale. My hair is a mess. It doesn't help that the bags under my eyes are more pronounced than ever. I have been averaging three hours of sleep per night and have been beaten on numerous occasions over the past month. It helps even less that I had to rely on my own magic to heal me. That is a rather sloppy process and takes up a lot of energy. It has gotten bad enough that sometimes I start getting delusional and see things.

Seriously, I once thought my wardrobe was an old muggle soda machine. Kept cursing it for not giving me a Coke, but I diverge.

I fall asleep standing up, but I can never manage more than half an hour's rest during the day. I really need a dreamless sleep potion. Maybe a Draught of the Living Death would help me out a bit. I could really use a week of sleep.

"You can use magic while you are here. The Ministry can't track magic used under the Fidelius. Plus, they cannot track underage magic coming from a magical house, only that magic is being used." Useful bit of information, indeed. Bloody pureblood gits always getting the better end of the deal.

"Good to know. Why are you here?"

She crosses her arms and pins me with a small glare. It is too easy to ignore her. I'm too tired to even care right now.

"I came to see why you were screaming."

"Don't worry about it." Honestly, would it not have been easier to just stay in your damn room?

It's none of her business. Sure, we are going to be married in the next year or so, but that does not mean I have to share every aspect of my life with her. Maybe I am being petty, but who cares? The less she knows the safer she will be.

"It's my problem, too, if this is a nightly occurrence. I need my sleep, Potter."

I get the distinct impression she is worrying about me…. Not. I bet she is as stubborn as Hermione, if not more so. Great, why did I have to get a persistent one? Why not one of those pureblood girls that are raised to cook, clean and not ask questions? I got shafted again, it seems.

On second thought, marrying a younger version of Molly Weasley may not be so great.

"It's no big deal. I just have a lot of nightmares."

"They can't be that bad."

Lack of tact yet again! She is two and o. How is she a Slytherin, again? I would have expected a comment like that from Finch-Fletchy. Perhaps she should have been a 'Puff.

"Let me ask you something, Greengrass." She stares at me as she moves to sit on the end of my bed. I can't get a read on her face. That little habit is going to get old quickly. I'm generally very good at reading people, unless it is in the romance department. It was a skill I recently acquired last year with the whole Umbridge mess. "Have you ever seen death up close? Have you ever looked into the eyes of a person, knowing they are about it kill you?"

Her silence is telling.

"Thought not. Must be nice." Her slight flinch is even more telling. "I'll let you in on a bit of my life then. Death has been chasing me since I was a small boy. I've been on the brink of demise more times than I care to remember. It's something that never leaves you, even when you sleep. I'm sure you will see it before the end of this war, but I hope that you never do. It has been over a year since Cedric's death, but I can still clearly see the surprise in his eyes. He got off easy. I've learned that the Unforgivables are not the vilest of magics. There are much, much worse ways to die."

"Then the rumors are true?"

It is a rather vague question, but I know what she is talking about. There have been a lot of rumors about me since I entered the magical world, but the public seems to be focused on only one as of late.

"I'm not sure about all the rumors, but some could be at least a bit accurate. I have never really paid attention to most of them."

"Tell me the truth then."

I have to bite back a laugh. Ron and Hermione don't even know everything about me.

"No."

The scowl she directs at me is nearly as venomous as Snivellus'. That is an accomplishment in and of itself. Fifty points to Slytherin!

"Why not? Because I am a Slytherin?"

Almost accurate.

"That is part of it, but not the main reason. I do not know you. How do you know that you won't go off and tell Malfoy?"

"You don't, short of a magical oath. Answer this, Potter: have you ever seen me hang out with that little ponce?"

If the way she asked that is any indication then it seems we do have at least one thing in common: we both detest Prince Poncey of the Ferret Nation.

"No, I have not, but that does not mean I trust you. You are a Slytherin, after all. Cunning, ambition and whatnot." I cannot help but smirk when she rolls her eyes. "Even if your lack of tact is astounding… Nearly Ron Weasley proportions."

"I will give you a magical oath."

Now, there is a surprise. What is her angle? She is backing herself into a corner by giving me an oath. That is not like a Slytherin at all. What could she possible gain from this?

She raises her wand. I flinch, but I do not give away that I have had my wand palmed underneath my sheets since she came into the room. **CONSTANT VIGILANCE!** Moody really should write a book. It would give me a good laugh, at the very least.

"I will not in any way willingly betray Harry Potter or his secrets. I will not deliver him into the hands of the Dark Lord or his followers. I will never be loyal to or follow the Dark Lord and his teachings. I will honor the alliance between the Noble and Ancient House of Greengrass and the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, as stated in the betrothal contract between the two Houses. On my life and magic, this I swear. So mote it be."

As she lowers her wand a muted flash of white light surrounds her body and fills the room. This is most interesting. It was a well worded oath, but I am sure there are still ways around it. I'm not incredibly familiar with oaths, but I have done a bit of research on them.

"Why did you make an oath to me so willingly?"

"The betrothal contract," she says as if her statement answered everything. At my raised brow she rolls her eyes in exasperation. "We are to be married, Potter. This is an alliance between my House and yours. I must do my part. We do not have to love each other. Hell, we do not even have to like each other. That is not what this contract is about. However, we must learn to trust one another. It was my first step in proving that you can trust me. I have no inclination to become branded like cattle and bind myself to a madman. You are the best hope I have to survive this war, if the rumors are to be believed."

She gets points for honesty, even if it is a rather callused view of her life. She is right, though. We will have to learn to trust each other. What good is an alliance without trust? If I cannot trust her then how could I trust her family? She is smart, I'll give her that.

"What happens if you break the oath?" I know the answer, but I want her to say it. It needs to be reinforced in her mind.

Wait a minute… How do I know what happens if a person breaks a magical oath? I have never researched it. Bizarre.

"I lose my magic." A shiver runs through her. A horrible fate, indeed. But didn't she say something about her life, as well? "Before I lose it, though, my magic would brand the Mark of the Traitor on my forehead. I would never be able to cover it. Losing my magic would cut my life span nearly in half. I would also be forced into servitude to you. Our betrothal would become null and you could use me as you will. You could also incur a blood feud against my Father. How you punish him would be up to you, though you could not cause bodily harm to my Mother or Astoria. Though, you could strip them of both their title of Ancient and Noble and the family's wealth. As you can imagine, it is not a fate I would ever resign myself to."

"Harsh." She knows I will not let a betrayal stand. This will be interesting, indeed.

"Yes, quite." She sets her wand on the bed beside her. I can almost make out a hint of sadness in her eyes, though I cannot tell if it is because of the oath, the situation with the contract or because of me. Could be a combination of all three. "So, are you going to tell me what you are dreaming of now?"

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice now, do I?" I could say no, but that would get me nowhere quickly.

I'm sure she could find a way around the oath if she really wanted to, but it would have considerably high risks. If she took one wrong step then her life and the life of her family would be forfeit. At least, that would be the case until I released her from the oath. I doubt that will ever happen, though. She willingly gave me a one up on her. That is not something I will take back lightly. The Harry at the beginning of last year would have, but not me. I've changed too much. I may not like it, but it is what it is.

"My dreams involve the Battle at the Ministry. I will not tell you why I was there. The information could still be pulled from your mind and it would put you in unnecessary danger. I dream about the deaths of my godfather and Remus Lupin. They were brutally murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange right in front of my eyes. Sirius was killed by a Blood Boiling Curse and Lupin by a silver spike through his chest. I see their dead eyes staring at me in horror and misery. That is what I see every night when I fall asleep. That is the reason I scream."

Silence permeates the room. She is staring at me, but I do not notice. I am too busy glaring a hole into the wall behind her. I still wish I had done something differently. Sirius would be here to help me through this war if I had. If I had listened to Hermione then he would be alive.

"You weren't bluffing then." I turn to look at her. She is still staring at me with an inquisitive look. I have no clue as to what she is really thinking. "I can't say that I understand what you are going through, but at least I know why you scream in your sleep. Don't forget the silencing charm tomorrow night. Goodnight, Potter."

She walks out of my room without another word. I am left with my own thoughts and demons as I stare at the door she left through. Everybody is already awake by the time I am broken from my trance.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I am sorry that we must meet under such unhappy conditions, Harry."

My silent musings broken, I stop my cursory scan of the Gringotts main lobby. Dumbledore's eyes have lost their constant happy twinkle. It would be inappropriate, considering the situation. Thank the less than merciful gods above that Gringotts has not been heavily affected by the war finally coming out in the open. Voldemort needs his flow of money just like we need ours. I wonder how long that will continue. Eventually, Tom will want to collapse our economy, but he has to make sure his army is well equipped and funded first. Takes money to build an army and destroy a government, after all. We will not have much time after Lucius withdraws his sizable fortune from his vaults. If he were smart he would have his followers slowly take their fortunes out over several months and then start a goblin revolution from the inside. Hell, that probably is what he will do. Wizard/Goblin relations have been strained at best ever since Umbridge started trying to pass her hate laws in the Wizengamot. It will not be long.

I nod my head in reply to his greeting as we walk side-by-side to the head teller's table. It is par for the course, after all.

My Order guards are following behind us. None of the Greengrasses had bothered escorting me since Sirius' will reading is private. Daphne just did not want to come even though she is allowed as my betrothed and that is fine by me. This is a private moment for me. Other people will be there, but only close family and others mentioned in the will. There is not too much to worry about since Sirius was not particularly popular in the last two years leading up to his death.

"Good morning, Senior Teller Longclaw," I say in Gobbledygook. Dumbledore looks at me in surprise. I know the Goblin revolt is coming. I want to ensure that I, at least, have a good standing with the Goblin Nation when it happens. Besides, it is not like it is a hard language to learn even if what it is called is highly offensive. Gobbledygook? Really? Can you get any more xenophobic? "Headmaster Dumbledore and I are here to attend Lord Black's will reading. We have an appointment with Ancient Vault Manager Griphook."

The Goblin looks at me in surprise for several seconds. He must be new in his position. I have always been highly respectful toward them. Once I stopped flinching at their smiles, of course. I have no idea why wizards do not treat them with respect. It has many side benefits that they will never know of. Being a preferred customer is always nice.

Seniority and hierarchy are rather strange in the Goblin Nation. They are all warriors. Once when they are too broken to fight are they given an honorable death, something most humans could never imagine doing nowadays. Their statuses at work and in society are two separate entities. The only goblin in all of England this is untrue for is Ragnok, the Bank Manager and Leader of the English Commonwealth Goblin Nation. He holds undisputed power in all areas. He is not the most powerful Goblin in all of the world, by far, since each country's Gringotts branch is a separate Nation of its own. Since London's is the main English branch all Gringotts in England answer to Ragnok, but Paris' branch has its own leader for its Nation. Ragnok, and all other Nation Leaders, answer to the Ragschtak (loosely translates to "Goblin Emperor"). Nobody, not even the Nation Leaders, knows his true identity. How the Goblins can keep up with all this is beyond me. It gets even more confusing once you start thinking about their places within both their work and their society and how it affects the hierarchy. Hermione tried to explain it all to me our fourth year, but you don't want to hear about it. Trust me; I'm pretty sure I received permanent brain damage from the headache it causes.

"You are a most interesting youngling, Mr. Potter." His reply comes in English, and his grin nearly sends slight shivers down my spine. He looks particularly vicious. "Few wizards of your stature decide it worthwhile to learn our most noble language. If you will both please follow me. The reading shall occur in Manager Griphook's personal conference room."

I nod my head to the shorter creature and follow him through the large, marble halls of Gringotts. This will be my first time seeing anything other than the lobby and vaults of the bank. He leads Dumbledore and me through a small, inconspicuous door in the back of the lobby. It seems to blend in with the wall surrounding it and his nearly completely hidden by a pillar. You would have to stand next to it to see it unless you were looking specifically for it. Most witches and wizards probably do not know of the door since they tend to think of Goblins as a lesser species, thus wanting to spend as little time around them as possible.

Gringotts rear hall, as it is called, is just as much of a maze as the cart rides. A person really would be quite mad if they wanted to rob this place. I can't help but wonder if the rumors of dragons guarding the older vaults are true. Marcus said that the Potters are a Most Noble and Ancient House. Does that mean we have a personal dragon guarding our vault? I do not fancy having to fight another one just to withdraw some of my galleons.

"This door leads to Manager Griphook's private conference room. I shall take my leave." The short Goblin walks back through the confusing set of halls. At least they know their way around.

"Shall we?" I ask with a sad smile before opening the door and stepping through.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

There are many more people here than I previously thought would attend. The small room is a bit crowded. Makes an escape much more difficult if I need it. At least I have Dumbledore here with me to help. Nothing should go awry with him around. I may not be too happy with him at the moment, but his power is something that must be respected. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are both here, as well. I am not surprised since they are related to Sirius. I hope that ponce gets shafted. I am sure Sirius would have thought it to be a great last prank, but I cannot be sure because of the bylaws that exist within each of the Ancient Families. I had spent a good deal of time reading with Hermione in the library last year when I was at odds with Ron.

Strangely, Draco makes no move to approach me, but his mother does. She must be keeping a tight hold on Draco's leash since Minister Fudge is here today. He is obviously only here to see if he can garner my support. Ophelia informed me last night that he most likely would since his approval ratings have tanked since Voldemort's sighting. He needs me.

"Ah, Mister Potter. Draco has told me much about you over the years. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

I can see why Lucius decided to marry her. She is the picture perfect Slytherin. Her eyes and facial features are perfectly schooled, but it does nothing to mar her beauty. Her blue eyes scan me before falling on my lightning bolt scar as she walks with ethereal grace toward me. She holds herself with a regal posture that is seconded only Riddle.

"A pleasure that is all mine, Lady Malfoy." I smile politely at the woman as I kiss her offered hand, but my eyes show my loathing. "Please give my regards to Lord Malfoy when you next see him. I am sure his newest extracurricular activities have kept him much too busy to attend this sad affair."

Growing up is not always easy, but I have done a great deal of it over the past year if her raised eyebrow is any indication. Last year I would have all but tried to out her as a Death Eater. Her eyes flit over to where Dumbledore is speaking with the Minister for Magic. She must have been expecting him to not let me out of arm's reach. I can still be my dangerously blunt self, but I have learned that subtlety can often be much more effective. The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin so I may as well put my inner Snake to work every once in a while.

"Yes, he has been rather busy dealing with the commotion at the Ministry as of late." A slight sneer adorns her face. I have to remember that she has been doing this much longer than I have. Malfoy had been broken out of Azkaban last week. It seems the witches and wizards at the DMLE fit the textbook definition of insanity. "I suppose you have been far too busy, yourself, to keep well informed of all the comings and goings within our government? There are many important details one would be loath to miss."

I have seen a few snippets of information slip by Voldemort's defenses while I sleep. Sadly, I can only see what he is doing when he is riding on a high of emotions. Too bad I can trust very little of what I actually do see. I have no idea what he is fabricating and what he is not. The incident at the Ministry taught me to be more critical of everything and everybody. God, I was so naïve. Still am, in some ways.

"I will admit to not being as knowledgeable as I would wish to be, but I do not believe our dear Minister will be able to keep his appointment for much longer." I had seen one of the headlines in the Prophet last night laying on an end table. I glance over at the portly man who is still in conversation with Dumbledore. Death Eater Junior has somehow been pulled into the discussion, as well. I smile at the scene. It is rather humorous. Malfoy is not the type of person who would deal well with politics. He is much too brazen. "I suppose Minister Fudge's denial of Voldemort's return and the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House being wrongly accused and jailed without trial hurt him. It is true that he had nothing to do with the latter, but it still would hurt his approval rating. Lords and Ladies tend to not appreciate such things as wrongful sentencing. I suppose this will hurt your husband's working relationship with the Minister. Such a shame, really, that the Minister's mud could also be slung on him as a result of both the inquiries and what happened at the Ministry last month."

What a pleasant sight. I have to smirk at her flinch when I speak her master's name. It is not something I can help. She can do nothing to retort to that, at least. I do not necessarily enjoy double speak, but standing up to _Lady_ Malfoy is rather satisfying. Will I win this verbal swordfight? Probably not, but I will not take her jabs sitting down, either. Her eyes narrow as I finish what I am saying.

"Mr. Potter, I assure you that my husband's superiors still regard him as highly as they ever have." She steps close, putting her hand on my shoulder and begins to whisper in my ear. The feel of her breath on my ear and her hand on my shoulder sends shudders of revulsion through my body. Nobody was around to hear. It seemed most people wanted to steer clear of her. I understand why. "You would do well to avoid insulting my Lord's followers, boy. You know nothing of what you speak. Your luck may have bested Lucius in the Ministry, but your day of reckoning shall come. The Dark Lord will flay your very soul, and you will beg him for death before he grants you that simple mercy. After this reading, Draco will command much power in our world. You would be wise to always be looking over your shoulder this year, Potter."

Well… I certainly hit a nerve. I watch her gather Draco and sit up front. At least I now know that her husband is no longer as trusted by Tommy Boy as he used to be. So it seems that crazy things will be happening at Hogwarts again this year. Par for the course, really.

Dumbledore breaks off from his conversation with the Minister and collects me. The Minister looks at me longingly, but he surprisingly takes his seat in the rear of the room. I sit on the Headmaster's right side in the front row. Narcissa is to his left. She looks decidedly uncomfortable. I force myself to look away from the dynamic duo. A rather large pensieve is being carried into the empty space in front of us by three Goblins. Silence befell the room as the three set the large object down and left the room, passing another Goblin in an expensive suit.

"I, Ancient Vault Manager Griphook, call this meeting to order in order to witness the last will and testament of Lord Sirius Orion Black III, Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. All statements provided by Lord Black are legally and magically binding. All who receive property, monetary or otherwise, shall be provided a physical copy of Lord Black's will in their respective vaults. Any who would contest any part of this shall do so through me. However, know that Lord Black has gone against no wizarding laws or bylaws of House Black. There is little that can be changed."

Here it is. This is a moment I have been dreading. It will make his death all too real for me. Another part of me feels that this will help me reach closure since I was not allowed to attend his funeral in Godrick's Hollow. Damn these conflicting emotions of mine! Should have drank a Calming Draught before I came in here.

Griphook reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a small vial of memories. Normally, the will is just read by the deceased's vault manager, but Sirius always did like to go against the norm. Bless him. As the memory is poured in slowly Griphook uses his other hand to activate certain runes on the rim of the Pensieve. It seems it has to be done in a specific order to work properly. Dumbledore's is much simpler.

A smoky image begins to coalesce above the large bowl. It takes a few seconds, but when it forms into a more solid shape I have to hold back a laugh. Sirius is sitting in a rather expensive looking chair with a tumbler of firewhiskey in one hand and a small, unrolled piece of parchment in the other.

"I, Sirius Orion Black III, a wizard who has reached his majority, residing in London, England, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. I revoke all wills and codicils previously made by me."

The translucent image of Sirius rolls his eyes and takes a rather large gulp of firewhiskey before smacking his lips.

"Always bloody did hate these formalities. Anyway, on to why we're here. Hello, everybody, it's good to see all of you again! Although, I can't really see you from where I'm sitting. If you're seeing this right now it means that I have died from either a prank gone horribly wrong or from doing something heroically idiotic."

I cannot help but smile as tears sting at the corner of my eyes. Trust Sirius to be completely nonchalant about something as morose as his own death. I wipe the tears from my eyes since I feel it would be an insult to his memory. Dumbledore places a hand on my shoulder to help comfort me. I nod my thanks to him, but he keeps it there. I wonder how many of these he has been to. Probably more than I care to know about.

"One of the last things I am going to do as the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black will be to remove Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black from the family. I do this as a result of her bringing shame and dishonor on the noble name Black. While her various crimes against humanity would be more than enough grounds for me to do this, it is not why I do it. She has sullied and betrayed the honorable and pure name of my House by bowing before a half-blooded psychopath. Bellatrix Lestrange, a member of an upstanding pure-blood House, has allowed herself to be branded like common cattle. In keeping my family's honor and tradition, I, Sirius Orion Black III, Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, hereby disown Bellatrix Walburga Lestrange nee Black from the House Black. I disavow both any future attempt for her to rejoin this House and any right she has to any inheritance from this House. The proper paperwork has been completed and approved by the proper authorities. Furthermore, I require that House Lestrange pay a sum of no less than five hundred thousand galleons to House Black no later than one week of the reading of this will in reparations for sullying our House's name in such a disgusting way. The Goblins will oversee the transaction and ensure it occurs. So I say it, so mote it be."

A muted flash covers his body as my eyes widen. Sirius salutes us with his glass and allows a triumphant smirk to cross his face before he takes another large sip of firewhiskey. That bastard knew he was going to die. I have no idea how he knew, but he did. Otherwise, he would not have done that. The retribution against him would have been too large. Voldemort's followers within the Ministry would have pushed for more Aurors to be on the lookout for him. Pettigrew would have been forced by Bellatrix to spill any and all information related to him since it would have detrimental to the funding of Riddle's war. The Lestranges are not rich by any standard, but that asking price has to be a good chunk of their fortune. His Padfoot form would have been out in the open. That bastard knew. That arsehole! I do have to admit it is a good start to his pranking beyond the grave, though. I expect no less from the Marauder.

I look over to Narcissa on the left of Dumbledore. She is furious. I can also see the fear in her eyes. There is no doubt in my mind that Narcissa will be punished by her master for what Sirius just did. Serves her right, the stupid bint.

"Now on to the Marauders. You blokes were the first true friends I ever had in this world, minus you, Wormtail. You are a traitorous bastard and I hope you rot in Azkaban for what you did to us. Prongs, Moony, you guys accepted me for who I am even though you would have been perfectly justified in never trusting me because of the dark reputation my family has. The three of us had our fights and our own problems, but you guys were the best friends a man could ever ask for. I look forward to all the pranks we will play in the next great adventure."

As Sirius pauses in his speech for a second to take another sip of firewhiskey, this time smaller, I hear a muted sob from behind me. No doubt that was Tonks. She had lost both her favorite cousin and her love interest in the same day. It must be hard hearing his name brought up in front of her. I know it is for me. She had been obviously chasing after Remus all of last summer. Tonks had fallen hard for the shy werewolf. I have to respect her for looking past his affliction. Most would not have even bothered.

"Wormtail… What can I say? You were our brother in pranking. We shared a great many adventures and the other three of us always stuck up for and defended you. My biggest regret is that I made you the Potters' secret keeper. It should have been me all along. You are a lying, traitorous and cowardly waste of sperm. I would sooner eat a steaming pile of hippogriff shit before I ever forgive you. For your actions against myself, Remus and James, I leave you thirty silver sickles. May you forever rot in Azkaban and then in hell, Judas. If you do not understand the reference, and I am very sure you do not, then ask somebody of the Christian religion.

"Moony, my friend. I am sorry that I did not trust you when James was picking a secret keeper. You truly are the most reliable wolf I know. It is no secret that you have had a hard life, and it is my job as your best mate to make sure you are taken care of after I am gone. That is why I leave to you a sum of five million galleons and the Black Family Cottage in southern Wales. For God's sake, man, buy yourself some new robes. I know you will chew me a new arse when you get up here with me, but I wanted to give this to you. It is not a charity case. You are not allowed to freely give this money or cottage away for any reason. Use it well, Friend. As we live in dangerous times, if you are not physically able to receive these gifts within one year of this will's reading then all previously mentioned items will go to a charity for abused and abandoned children. I know that is what you would have wanted."

I sigh. Moony was too good a man to meet an end like his. He should be here with me. I can hear Tonks openly sobbing now. I hope she lives through this war. She does not need to go out because of a death wish. Maybe I should talk to her at some point if I get the chance.

"James… Words cannot describe you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me and I will always cherish our memories. I cannot leave anything to you since you are already dead, but I will leave one hundred thousand galleons to your son, Harry. It will be deposited directly into his trust vault at the end of this reading. Harry, use it well."

Our thoughts are often strange. It is odd that I wonder if my parents ever left a will for me. What is stranger is that I have never given this a thought before. I will not have the time for it today since I have to get back to Greengrass Manor for lunch after this. I promised Ophelia last night that I would sit with Daphne for a bit and get to know her. My to do list just keeps getting bigger and bigger lately.

"Fred and George Weasley. Moony and I talked a few months prior to me making this will and decided to make you two honorary Marauders. You already have more than enough money right now so I will not leave you any. I will give you something far more valuable. I leave to you a book that I, myself, have written. It is called _The Marauders of Olde_ and is located in my personal vault. The Goblins will deliver it to you. It is a detailed list of all the Marauders pranks, how they were accomplished and the results of each. Use it well.

"Andromeda Tonks. You were always my favorite out of all the Black sisters. To you I leave the sum of five million galleons and the house we used to play at as children. That means that Kreacher is yours, too. Have fun with him. Also, I have given you and your daughter your places back in my House. The paperwork has been completed and approved. Welcome back, Andy.

"Nymphadora Tonks… Ha! I bet you drew your wand just now didn't you? This is the one time you can't hex me for using your first name and I plan to cash in on it. You're a good kid, Nymphadora. I always did like you. To you I leave the sum of twenty million galleons on the terms that you quit the Auror Corps and become Harry's personal guard and that he takes care of you if something should happen to Remus. That last part will be a bit clearer later on when I get to him. You have two weeks upon the completion of this will's reading to decide.

"To Ron Weasley, Ginerva Weasley, and Hermione Granger I leave five million galleons each provided that they remain true friends to Harry. You kids have been through a great ordeal and still have a long way to go. Have fun with it.

"To Arthur and Molly Weasley I leave ten million galleons. Your House has always stood by me and I want to repay you for that. I thank you for your support and your friendship. May your family always flourish.

"To Albus Dumbledore… I leave nothing except advice. We have had many conversations concerning Harry. He is almost a grown man now. You are a good man, Albus, but you are going about this war in the wrong way. I suggest you sit down and have a good, long talk with Harry. He has a good head on his shoulders. Treat him as an equal and we will definitely defeat Voldemort. If you keep going about it the way you are then we will most likely lose. It has been an honor fighting beside you, but not working beneath you. That is all I have to say to you."

Oh, he is pissed. I have to wonder if he will actually heed Sirius' advice, though. It seemed pretty sound, if not a bit insulting.

"Narcissa Malfoy nee Black. The Black bylaws state that I have to give you something of value, but I think you are about as valuable as a vault full of Leprechaun gold." Sirius smirks as he takes another drink of his firewhiskey. This should be good. "However, it never said I could not give you conditions on what you get from me. I leave to you one hundred million galleons on the condition that you divorce your husband, renounce your allegiance to Voldemort and never contact either one of them in any fashion ever again. You may also gain protected status under the next Head of House Black should you do this. We will welcome you back with open arms, Cissy.

"Draco Malfoy. I have to give you something, as well, since you are supposed to be next in line for House Black. It is to my utmost regret to inform you that I have been forced to give the Headship of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black over to a person I never had any intentions to give it to since I have no heirs of my own." I can feel the smug smirk Draco is giving off right now. He will have far too much power when he gets this. His votes in the Wizengamot could easily turn the government to Voldemort's control. "Draco, I, as the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, bequeath the title of Lord Black and all that comes with it, upon my demise, to… Harry Potter."

"WHAT?!"

"WHAT?!"

"WHAT?!"

The noise in the room is deafening. How is that possible? I am the most distant relative to the Blacks. I look to Dumbledore only to find him wearing a slight smile. Did he have anything to do with this?

"I'm sure I have just caused quite the uproar so let me explain. Normally, something like this would not be possible. I have, indeed, worked with Albus Dumbledore on this. He was Harry's magical guardian. He has transferred that title over to me. I adopted Harry. It did not take me long to get the Dursley's signatures. Upon my exoneration, Harry will become Harry Potter-Black. Until he becomes Lord Potter upon his seventeenth birthday he will be Lord Black. The appropriate paperwork has been filed and approved. I did not want to do this to you, Harry, but I could not in good conscience give Headship of this Family over to Draco. It is far too much power for him to possess. It will be taxing to be the Head of two Ancient Families once you turn seventeen. For now, you only have to worry about one. This does mean, though, that you must name your second born son a Black. If your wife cannot produce a second male heir then you may have to marry another. I am sorry, but Albus and I both agreed this had to be done. Now, back to the matter at hand. Draco Lucius Malfoy, I leave you a large fortune of one knut and a fabulous book written by a fabulous muggleborn author: _Wizarding for Dummies_. Use it well, you great ponce."

Through all of the noise in the room I am sure everybody heard my triumphant laugh. Sirius just pulled the greatest prank of all time against the Malfoys. I wish I could take a picture of the ferret's face right now. He is fuming!

"Now, Harry." I immediately sober once I hear Sirius say my name. This is most likely the last bit that he has to say, and I feel that it will be the most important part. "You are the son I've never had. I have so much that I need to apologize to you for, but I do not have the time to say it. I should have been there to raise you. That is what James and Lily both wanted. As you are painfully aware, I was not. That is the single biggest regret of my life. I want you to live a happy life, Harry. Yours has been miserable so far. Everything else I need to say to you is written in a book in my vault. You will know it when you see it. I have explained everything you will need to know in it.

"As I said, if you are hearing this then you are the new Head of House Black, pending my exoneration. Upon the completion of this will and my pardon, I use my powers as your guardian to emancipate you. The paperwork has been filed. As soon as you leave Gringotts then you will have the same rights as any adult in both the muggle and wizarding worlds. I never saw the Potter's will, but James told me that you would be the Head of House Potter on your seventeenth birthday. Even though you are emancipated in the wizarding and muggle world, the wording of James and Lily's will must be carried out to the letter. You will hear it in the next year or so, anyway. Congratulations! You're your own man now, Harry. I am sorry it took my death to give you that, though. I leave everything else that has not previously been given away in my will to you, Pup.

"You can see my vault manager, Griphook, about it. If I'm not mistaken, he also oversees the Potter Vault. I believe this leaves you with all my remaining properties. The Manor is pretty awesome and under a Fidelius. You will learn where it is after you leave the Bank. Also, you will receive a sum of four hundred million galleons and over three hundred million in assets. Everything else not mentioned and not already given away is yours, Harry. Congratulations again! You are the single richest wizard in all of Britain! Use it well and be happy. I'm gonna have fun in the afterlife so don't worry about me. You just focus on what you have to do to bring down that dark ponce. Draco, shove your wand up your arse. Well, everybody, it's been a fun life! Can't wait to see you all again, except a certain few of you. Sirius Black, out!"

The memory ends, but I cannot move or say anything. I cannot believe what just happened. Sirius just pranked Malfoy and me at the same time. I am sooooo gonna have to get him back for that. It all leaves me with mixed feelings, though. I am glad he did this for me, but I would trade it all in just to have him back. Too bad you can't buy back the dead with a vault full of money. I barely notice Draco and his mother nearly sprinting to the exit with an acidic expression of hatred on their faces. I wish Colin was here so he could take pictures.

"Lord Black." It takes me a moment to realize somebody is talking to me. I'll have to get used to being called Lord Black. I look up from my lap to see Griphook standing in front of me. "I will send you an owl for an appointment to settle all your affairs. It shall be a long meeting, but I assure you it will be worth your while."

Nodding at the Goblin, I watch him walk away without a further word. Dumbledore grabs my arm and helps me to numbly stand to my feet. I am rather grateful for that. I seriously doubt I would be able move at all on my own.

"We should leave at once, Harry. I am afraid we have stayed stationary far too long as it is." Out of the corner of my eye I see Cornelius Fudge bustling his way toward us. I feel that I cannot agree with Dumbledore more at the moment.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I am still in a daze when we walk through the front door of Greengrass Manor. Marcus, Ophelia and Dumbledore all stand in the sitting room in deep conversation for a few minutes upon our return, but I do not pay them any mind. I am too busy concentrating on Sirius' will and the slight burning of my scar that started a few minutes ago. I know Voldemort is happy about something. I would bet my brand new vaults that I will end up seeing something I do not want to while I sleep tonight. Looks like the bags under my eyes are about to get a lot worse. Perhaps I could ask Marcus for a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Meh, I doubt it would even work since I won't exactly be dreaming.

Well, at least now I will have access to enough money to help out Petunia and Dudley if they decide to leave her moronic husband. The burning in my scar intensifies. Voldemort is angry now. I bet Narcissa just reported Sirius' will reading to him. He had to have been interested in the outcome. After all, gaining access to one of the richest families with a large amount of votes in the Wizengamot does not come around every day. Yeah, he will be feeling the sting of the loss for a while to come. If I were keeping score I would so be kicking his scaly arse right now.

Oh, boy. This is not going to be good.

"Harry, would you like to join us for… HARRY!"

The last thing I see before the darkness claims me is the look of worry on Ophelia's face.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N:** Well, that was a long chapter. Do not expect all of them to be that length. I usually like to run about 6,000 words or so. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! And please do not forget to review! Your reviews are my crack. It motivates me to push more chapters!


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